


Blackcherry Boy | L x Reader

by tsurakofuku



Category: Death Note & Related Fandoms, Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, F/M, Fingerfucking, Lemon, Missionary Position, Multiple Sex Positions, One Shot, PWP, Reader-Insert, Self-Insert, Sex, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:53:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27705146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsurakofuku/pseuds/tsurakofuku
Summary: Twitter request! ☆ A female Task Force agent and some one-on-one time with the detective. * I DO NOT OWN L OR DEATH NOTE* Minors DNI.
Relationships: L (Death Note) & Original Female Character(s), L (Death Note) & Reader, L (Death Note)/Original Female Character(s), L (Death Note)/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 309





	Blackcherry Boy | L x Reader

**Author's Note:**

> Self-insert where Reader is a member of the Kira Task Force. Sorry for a bit of a long leadup but I think any sort of sexual encounter with L requires a fair amount of setting up. It takes place sometime after Light surrenders the Death Note/ loses his memory of being Kira (so I guess, it must be before the handcuffing…even though they moved into the building after that… but please understand this can’t be perfect timing!) And, no condoms, as usual, because I’m lazy. Enjoy! MATURE READERS ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
> 
> Recommended playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6wQ0D0D6zz2z50SlEVuusW

Even if the name the Task Force has been given is Ryuzaki, he calls himself L, or, really, he rarely calls himself anything, but it’s how you know the sullen, sunken-eyed man who seems to live on the periphery of life itself. He commands the room without asking for attention, it’s just given to him, even seasoned professionals automatically gravitating towards him despite themselves. The room ebbs and flows with him as the inconspicuous center. 

The same goes for you. You’re caught in the flow as well, leaving and entering and seeing always a different permutation of officers and staff except for the glowing shadow of L in front of the monitors. Today, though, the room is empty save for you, and L and a plate of desserts. The clacking of keys and the mouse, a grating scrape of fork against china are the only sounds echoing through the silence. You clear your throat, shifting your weight from one foot to the next.

“Um- L – can I help with anything?”

“If they didn’t assign you anything to work on this afternoon, I have no task to delegate that wouldn’t just cause you to be underfoot,” L says without turning away from the computers.

 _Goddammit._ No, you have nothing specific to do, but instinct and work ethic tells you that you can’t just call it a day and go home. Especially when everyone’s giving all they can to find Kira. You crane your neck, unable to make anything specific out on the neon screens in front of L. His long, pale fingers absently roll towards the dish, taking the last chocolate-covered strawberry.

“Can I get you, um, some more… food?”

He turns his head, nose angling down to the empty plate, before turning to look at you with vacant black eyes. “Ah. That would be appreciated.” 

L extends the dish to you almost thoughtlessly, as he turns his head back to the monitors, clicking away at the computer again. You take it, walking out of the main hall, looking for that old man Watari. He must be out on some secret assignment as well, because you make it to the industrial kitchens undisturbed. In fact, the entire Task Force building seems uncannily silent. 

_If_ _they_ _all just went home…_

You open the refrigerator, plating a narrow slice of chocolate cake next to shortbread biscuits. There’s a bowl of brilliantly dark black cherries sitting inside too, and you grab a fistful by the stems to fill the rest of the dish. 

Suddenly, a little click echoes through the kitchen, and L’s voice comes tinny though the intercom.

“Um… ah…”

He pauses, and you realize he’s trying to remember your name through the slew of more-important information clogging the forefront of his brain. You look up to the corner security cameras, flashing a thumbs up and forgiving him.

“Would you be so kind as to bring a cup of coffee as well? You may, of course, prepare yourself one as well.”

You give a thumbs up again, turning to the pot waiting hot and steaming from whoever prepared it before leaving. The machine beeps when you pour two mugs full. You look over your shoulder at the camera, raising the little pot of cream and sugar bowl. 

“Bring the sugar,” L’s voice says again, crackling through the speakers. “I’ll mix it myself. Oh- come up to the next floor, I stepped out.”

You nod, and grab a silver serving tray to balance the load. As you make your way to the elevator to go a floor up from the main hall’s level, you stare at the gleaming black cherries on the platter. Not the job you expected when you joined the elite Kira Task Force. 

The cherries lose their glimmer as you step out of the elevator, right into a lounging room you’d never encountered in the mammoth of the building before. L’s eyes are just as large and dull as the cherries, and he blinks slowly as you approach. He’s perched on a chaise lounge, not reclining into the bed-like sofa but still sitting like an owl as usual, biting his thumb and staring off into space, the wheels of his mind churning beneath his thick black hair. You place the tray on the table in front of the couch and sit next to him, picking up your own coffee.

He nods by way of thanks, not looking at you as he reaching absently for a cookie.

“Are you taking a break?”

“Waiting for some information to come back,” L says, munching and still staring unblinkingly. “But yes, there isn’t much I can do right now, so I suppose it’s a bit of a break.”

He’s fascinating, and up close, somehow darkly handsome. The shadows streaking under his eyes drag down his face, giving him dimension beyond the sickly pallid complexion he’s gotten from staring at the computer all day. He reaches for the sugar bowl, using his finger to drop three, four, five cubes into his coffee. 

“You take it black?” he asks, swirling the cup.

You clear your throat, staring into the mug. “Um- sure, yeah. I don’t really have a preference.”

“Black coffee is good for your heart, in moderation,” L says. He slurps, puts the mug down, reaches for the cherries.

“What about your own health?” you ask, surprising yourself with the teasing tone in your voice. “So much sugar can’t be good for you at all.”

“So they tell me,” L says. He examines the cherries, holding them up to the light, twirling the stem between his fingers. They glint, rubies turning black. L turns his head to make eye contact with you, for the first time, dark and vacant. “It’s boring, isn’t it?”

You put the coffee down. “What is, the investigation?”

“Yagami-kun,” L says, his brow furrowing slightly, turning back to play with the cherries. He sounds strangely hesitant, a tone you’re unfamiliar with coming from him. “He’s… well, he’s frankly boring now. And this investigation… I’m not… something is…wrong.”

This is an expression you’ve never seen L wear before. He stares at the cherries in a way you’d almost say was mournful, but when he puts the double-stem fruit into his mouth whole, he bites down with a ferocious, angry clench of his jaw, spitting the pits viciously. It’s passionate, and that’s why you’ve never seen L look like this before, even through all the other times Light Yagami has come up in conversation.

Yes, Light Yagami, the brilliant student who’s been the other genius, nebulous center of the Kira investigation. Like two opposing magnet poles, they tensely swirl around each other without touching. You know L has been so convinced that Light was Kira, even through the days of lockup – even now, bullheadedly convinced that Light _was_ Kira at some point in the past. Which puts L back at square one, staring into the middle distance, mind churning, utterly alone in his calculations that leapfrog one over the other.

And… you can’t put your finger on it exactly, but you can see L is more than _bored_ at the situation at hand.

He pulls the cherry stems from his mouth, tied in an intricate knot, and you reach out to take it from his fingers. He looks at you, the same troubled frustration flashing in his eyes, and you lean forward, catching his lips in a kiss.

It surprises you as much as him, his hand freezing in yours, the cherry stems slipping between both of your fingers. You blink, and his eyes are wide, boring into yours. You make that eye contact, mouth still pressed to his, before you watch his lids sink shut. 

And he returns the kiss. His tongue slips past your lips and your open your mouth to push yours back in response. You let go of his hand, and cup his face, feeling his hands hesitant on your waist. The confidence grows for both of you, you leaning forward, his hands beginning to tighten, the kiss deepening. L tastes tart and sweet, the artificial sugar from the coffee and cookie taken away by the tangy bite of the cherries. It’s mouthwatering. You breathe him in, a light buzz spreading through your mind.

The kiss breaks for air, and you look at him, leaning back with one hand still on the side of his face. He looks somehow both ancient and youthful, his pupils swallowing the rest of his eyes in the dark shadows of his expression. He is so abnormal, so out of place with the rest of the world, so disinterested in and removed from normal life. And, still so sad, beautifully so. 

You must have the sorrow in your eyes, because L shakes his head free of your caress, though he doesn’t leap away.

“Don’t do that. Don’t pity me,” L says, “You don’t want to do this for me.”

“No,” you breathe, sinking down to kneel between the couch and the table, hands fumbling for his jeans. “I want to, it’s not that.”

He lifts his hips, helping you roll his jeans and boxers down to the floor, slipping easily past his bare ankles. You sit up between his legs, and look up at him, face shadowed and lips parted. 

“I’m doing this because I want to,” you say again, softly. 

You take him cautiously in your hands, heart beating wildly. L’s cock is bigger than you could have ever pictured from his slouched posture and baggy clothes. You stroke your thumbs gently along the underside of him, opening your mouth to lick the tip of his cock. The first stroke of your tongue is light and short, your second dragging a little longer, before you lean forward to take him fully into your mouth. He tastes a little sour, and stiffens quickly with your movements. You adjust your hands on his shaft, sliding down him to rub up and down closer to his base, your mouth moving forward and tongue licking continuously.

L lets out a sharp breath, and when you roll your eyes up to meet him, he’s staring wildly down at you with an expression so intense you’ve only seen something like it before during key points of the investigation. He’s breathing shallowly. His chest rises and falls shortly, even faster as you begin to suck his cock. You force your lips tightly around his shaft and inhale, closing your cheeks and moving up and down gradually faster and faster, trying to keep eye contact with him as you move.

“ _Fuck_ ” he says, almost spitting the word shamefully, and you feel him throb in your mouth, coming closer and closer to completion. You force your head all the way down his cock, feeling him hit the back of your throat and gagging lightly as your forehead presses into his stomach. You breathe in and squeeze your eyes shut, sucking so hard that your lips almost hurt as you deepthroat him. L’s breaths slip into a groan, his legs tensing on either side of you. 

You feel L come before you taste him shooting down your mouth. His cock twitches as you slowly lean back, gingerly holding his base again. You guide his cock out of your mouth little by little as you swallow his come, until just the tip of his cock is between your lips. You run your tongue lightly over the head of his cock, eliciting another groan from L, before turning your tongue down to lick his tip as you pull him completely from your mouth. You look up at him again, staring wildly down at you. 

How could you ever think his eyes were dull and vacant? They shine like cherries, fathomless pools catching the light and throwing it back. 

“You still think I’m doing this out of pity?” you ask, crawling up the chaise longue again, straddling his still-trembling thighs. L’s hands come to the back of your blazer, helping you shed the layer of professionalism. When your arms are free, you reach for the hem of his baggy white shirt to pull it over his head.

“I don’t…” L says. His voice is ragged, and he swallows, as if trying to regain his usual composure. He fumbles against the buttons of your shirt, then for your bra when you throw it to the ground. “But just so you understand…”

His hands freeze on the clasp, looking up at you with gleaming eyes, voice steeled again. “We will never speak of this again.”

“Right.”

Of course. 

L wraps his arms around your back again as he adjusts his position, and suddenly you’re lying underneath him on the chaise lounge. He has a wiry strength, stronger than he appears, and he moves down you to pull down your own pants and underpants with a sharp tug. You lift your ankles, and he catches them in long slender hands, raising them above your body to rest on his shoulders. He leans forward, adjusting himself between your thighs, and you shift your knees. 

“You’re wet,” L says, and you feel his fingers dance along your bare pussy, almost a tracing motion with alternating pressure, just as if he’s typing on his keyboards. 

“That will drive you crazy, right? If I just use my fingers?”

It is driving you crazy, feeling him brush against you. You feel hot and heavy, sinking by your hips into the cushions of the chaise lounge. You flex your feet, rolling your ankles, shaking as he comes so close to you. L’s fingers swirl over your folds, down to your entrance, but never pushing inside, just dancing around. It’s not _fair_ not fair, when you sucked him off so well… 

“T- teasing,” you force out. “Don’t tease me, I – I don’t like – teasing.”

“So you say.”

His first two fingers come to your entrance, and with a light grunt, you feel when he finally pushes them into you. He begins moving, just lightly in and out, still teasing you with intermittent scooping motions that feel like he’s hooking underneath your belly button. You shake your hips as L begins to curl his fingers faster and faster, your body moving in time with his movements. He pushes deeper into you, sitting up almost perfectly straight as he leans over you, pushing your thighs back towards your body. He looks down on you, lips curving in what might almost be a smile.

“I think you do like this,” he says. “Do you like it… here?”

You gasp as you feel him move his fingers into a V, spreading your pussy. Your feet flex, almost falling off of his shoulders. His thumb moves up, finding your clit after a few searching strokes, and beginning to rub in circles that grow tighter and tighter. You cry out, totally lost in the haze now.

“Fuck! Please!”

L regards you, slowly moving his hand over your pussy still, curling the first two fingers back down to your entrance to resume the light, teasing tracing. “Tell me… clearly… what it is you’re begging for,” he says.

 _Goddammit!_ His patience, your lack thereof, is too frustrating. 

“I want you to _fuck me _hard!”__

____

____

L’s eyes are shining, two dark moons glowing down, and he lets go. You feel his cock, long and hard again, curving up and over your pussy and slowly sliding to your entrance. You bite your lip, tasting the remnants of his sour cherry kiss, waiting for him to fill you, but he just strokes up and down again, running his cock over your folds. He pushes through your slit, coming down to your entrance. You arch your back, trying to push your hips up, begging him with your body to hurry.

“ _Please_ ….”

Suddenly, with a smooth slide, he thrusts into you, his cock so suddenly pushing against your sensitive inner walls. It’s all at once, immediately stretching into you. You cry out. He sits up, pulling your legs back up, pushing at a new angle, and you feel yourself pulse beneath your belly, spreading through from your core. L moves his hand over your hip, resting over the base of your stomach, trapping you between his hand and his cock, rubbing against the inside of you as he fucks you into the couch.

“ _Oh - my- god_ -!”

His slamming somehow comes even deeper, pulling out and leaving you sore, and then suddenly all the way back in with every stroke. Your eyes roll, your body going limp under his relentless thrusts.

L is panting above you, grunting and straining as his strokes go faster. Your legs slide from his shoulders, and L collapses on top of your body. His hands push against your chest, roughly groping you as he continues to pound his cock into your body. He finds your nipples and pinches, pushing his palms into your body almost painfully. You moan louder and louder, squirming under his weight as he pushes into you, throwing your head back with a cry. He’s forceful and persistent. It’s pleasurable, even as your body grows hot, throbbing in time with his thrusts. 

“You’re… so tight… gripping me so… tightly,” he says, his voice a dark song, struggling to speak through the rhythm of his thrusts. 

“It- It’s good, it’s so good,” you rasp out, your breath and strength taken from you as lust and adrenaline alone fuel you forward. 

L’s hands move under your body, pulling you up to sit you up. You tense your thighs as best as you can, not falling off his cock, sitting up to straddle him again with his body leaning against the back of the chaise longue. L’s still controlling the thrusts, hands moving to the base of your back to keep you up as your hips begin to rock faster and faster. You arch your back and close your eyes, reveling in the pleasure. You feel his cock filling you with every slam of your hips down onto his lap. Leaning back, your hands rest on his thighs for support, leveraging yourself to move faster and faster.

“ _It feels – so – good!_ ” you cry. 

L lets out a groan in tandem with your words. You feel his right hand, slipping down to your front, his left hand still bracing you against your back and gripping you tight as his fingers come down to your pussy again.

You scream, louder than you thought you would, when his thumb skims over your swollen clit, and comes back and forth to rub you even as his cock continues relentless thrusts into you. 

“So _tight,_ ” L says, his voice faint and ragged again. “I can… feel you… so tight… you’re going to come…”

“ _Mmm_ -“

“Come,” he says, breathing the word, eyes luminous and piercing into yours. You force your back straight again, leaning into him, meeting his lips in a kiss so violent you almost bang your teeth together. He returns with fervor, sour and deep and tongue wrapping around yours. You moan into his mouth.

“ _I -_ ”

“Yes,” he says back, humming as his lips brush against yours to close the kiss, and you feel the heat below your stomach burst and flood through your body in a wave of delicious cramping. You come hard, with his hand still over your clit and cock still filling you. 

L comes soon after with a louder, wordless cry, coming again, and fucking you through his orgasm as his thrusts come shallower and shallower. You feel him hot and wet between your thighs, pushing deep into you as your own fluids leak down over him. When he finally pulls out, you’re dripping wet, skin and couch sticky.

You almost fall off his lap, your entire body trembling. Your ears pound, your head spins, the cramping of your climax pulsating through your body out of time with your heart. You press your palms into the cushions to steady yourself. In your periphery vision, you can see L, slowly settling back into his usual slouch and breathing heavily.

It takes a few moments of silence broken only by the two of you panting. Everything is swirling and hot and throbbing, your strength still not quite returned. L reaches forward, grabbing for another cherry, spinning it between his fingers. He turns his head to look at you, holding the cherry at level with his face, catching garnet light that echoes in his shining eyes. 

“I’ve just thought of a job for you this evening. You should order the Task Force a new couch.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I completely forgot to clarify and I don't think I can work it into the story naturally, but the "cherry" theme was specifically inspired because of that scene where he can tie two cherry stems together with his tongue.. if only I could attatch pictures to AO3. This was such a fun request, so I'm sorry for fudging with real plot and characterization things to make it work as best as I could. Let me know what you think! :) ~ Tsura * SEE MY CARRD IN MY PROFILE FOR INFORMATION ABOUT MAKING REQUESTS *


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